


Leaks

by justtoogaytofunction



Category: Glee
Genre: Masturbation, Other, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtoogaytofunction/pseuds/justtoogaytofunction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel has a problem. With his penis being so extraordinary large, he can't use the school bathrooms. And so, he must hold everything in until he gets home. But one day it might just be too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaks

urt’s had his ‘problem’ since 8th grade. He always avoids using urinals in public and at school, and the cubical smell so bad he often just holds it all in until he’s home. He’s so scared someone will find out about it that he hangs around in the changing rooms until everyone’s gone home; only then will he shower. It’s not that his cock is small or oddly shaped, nor is it a weird colour. It’s just incredibly large.

Kurt’s seen enough porn to know he was superbly well endowed down there. He knows most the porn stars he watches get work because of being so large, but the truth is, at age 17, he matches their size. And in some cases, he’s even bigger. He knows most people his age wished their penis was slightly larger, but Kurt’s reached that size where it’s embarrassing. Maybe if he was in his twenties, it would be cool, maybe if he was looking for a career in porn, it would be his savoir. But he’s not; he’s seventeen years old and can think of nothing worse than the whole school knowing about his little problem. Well, it’s kind of the opposite of little.

So Kurt holds his pee in all day, waits for school to end before he walks as quickly as he can to his car before driving home. With his dad always at work, the house is empty and he savours those long minutes where he can release the urine inside of him, spilling out into the toilet bowl, emptying him.

He’s been doing this for so long it doesn’t bother him that much anymore. By 3pm his bladder will hurt, but he knows he can hold it off until he gets home, even if he has to drive with one hand on the wheel and the other cupping his crotch.

Today is no different, and by the end of lunch, Kurt’s bladder is filling up nicely. He’s learnt to love the full, aching pressure of his bladder and longs for the last bell to ring, letting him to finally go home and empty it.

40 minutes later, Kurt finds himself in history class, squirming on his chair. Fuck, he thinks to himself. Maybe he did drink too much water at lunch- it’s meant to be good for his skin to down 3 glasses with his meal. And now, wriggling in his chair, legs crossed, he’s paying the consequences.

He checks the clock to see the class still has 20 minutes left. No one can see how desperate he is, everyone is working, heads down, at the test Mr Schue has given them. And Mr Schue himself is occupied with something on his laptop.

Kurt squeezes his thighs together a little harder, praying that he’ll last until the end of the lesson. Blinking down at the questions, he wills himself to concentrate.

3) What was the main reason of Russia’s revolution in 1917? Explain your answer (30)

Shit. Kurt should have started this question 20 minutes ago but he’s not been able to concentrate on anything else than the pressure in his stomach. He realises he’s wearing light grey skinny jeans. If he leaks the slightest drop, everyone will notice. After debating with himself whether to get up to use the restroom or not, he finally gives in.

‘Mr Schue?’ he calls out.

‘Yes?’ Mr Schue replies, annoyed to be interrupted. ‘What’s the matter Kurt?’

‘Can I use the restroom please?’

Kurt’s worried he sounds out of breath when he says it, rushing out the words. He just needs to get to the toilet. Now.

‘Kurt, this is a test,’ Mr Schue frowns. ‘No, you’ll have to wait.’

Kurt grimaces and puts his head down again, staring blankly at the question. If he didn’t get a decent answer down in he remaining 15 minutes, he’d be in detention.

Kurt tries to write something down. Really, he does. But every time he picks up his pen and just moves in anyway, his bladder twitches and he goes back to being completely still so as not to piss himself. He tries looking at the clock for a distraction. But after 5 minutes of staring at the hands, moving aggravatingly slowly, he’s had enough.

‘Mr Schue, can I-‘

‘No, Kurt,’ Mr Schue interrupts. He looks at the clock, waiting for the hand to reach half past.

What seems like an hour later, it does, and the bell rings, signalling the end of class. And Kurt thinks it’s fine, that he’s ready to go, until Mr. Schue comes round to collect his paper.

Kurt’s page is blank, no essay even started. Heart racing even more, he looks down as Mr Schue picks it up.

‘See me after class,’ Mr. Schue says, tired of Kurt. Kurt usually wasn’t like this, he was hard working and quiet, but today he ahd been a total nuisance.

Kurt blushes red as Mr Schue’s words hit him and he watches everyone file out the door as he packs up his stuff. He really has to go, now. His bladder is screaming, a visible bloating of his stomach created by the urine he’s holding inside of him. He honestly feels like he’s going to burst.

Mr Schue looks at him, saying ‘come here,’ and Kurt has no choice but to pick up his bag and walk towards him. Legs wobbling, he tenses his stomach, thighs brushing together as he tries to keep them as close as possible as he walks. Mr Schue starts talking to him, slow, deliberate words which Kurt can’t concentrate on, only thinking about his bladder.

Kurt needs to go. Badly.

Even his breathing is heavy now, he can hear it over the silence which has come with everybody having gone home. Mr Schue looks at him strangely before giving him his test back, and Kurt’s not quite sure what he’s mean to do; if he has to complete it at home or what, but before Mr Schue can stop him he’s out of the door and running to his car, glad for the empty corridors. There’s no point in using the bathrooms at school now, they’ll be full of the jocks as they change for football practice. So Kurt has no choice but to wait until he’s home.

Once in his car, he sits for a moment, face scrunched as he attempts to control his bladder. Finally, he looks up and switches the engine on, praying for no traffic so he can go home quickly.

He’s almost home when he reaches a road blocked off and is diverted to a longer route. It’s only a couple more minutes though, and Kurt knows that there’s a possibility that he can make it, that he can get if he gets to his house as quickly as possible, he can run to the toilet and it will all be fine. So he continues to drive, almost hitting the speed limit, aching to go home.

It’s going fine until the first speed bump.

Kurt’s car jostles over the bump in the road and almost instantly, urine spurts out the head of his cock, forming a visible wet patch on the crotch of his jeans. He regains control of his bladder just in time, stopping any more liquid from leaking out, before the next one. Again, another dark spot is made, the temperamental release feeling amazing. Kurt tenses his muscles even harder, slowly going red when he thinks about what he’s just done. Looking down at the dark spots on his jeans again, he blinks back tears, made out of shame and frustration. This wasn’t meant to happen to him. Kurt Hummel never pisses himself.

Finally, he pulls out in his drive only to see his dad’s car still there. And then Kurt remembers. His dad wasn’t going to work that day.

He sits there in his seat, breathing slowly, trying to gain enough control over his full bladder to get up. Opening the door, he grabs his bag to run inside his house, heading straight up the stairs to the bathroom. Holding his bag over his wet crotch in case his dad sees him, he tries the door handle. It’s locked. Then he hears the running water of the shower. His dad’s in there. And with only one bathroom, he’s going to have o wait.

He runs up stairs, each step leaving him more desperate for some release. Once in his room, he collapses in his bed, sweat prickling on his forehead.

There’s no way he can wait for his dad to come out of the bathroom. He has to go now.

Checking the door’s closed; he wriggles out of his jeans and takes his damp boxer briefs off. There’s nothing for him to pee in, his bin’s full of rubbish and he can’t even see a glass he could use. Wincing at the thought of what he’s about to do, he reaches over to the box of tissues on his nightstand and spreads them out over his bed.

Grabbing the towel on his chair, he places it over the tissues and crouches on his hands and knees over it. For some wird reason, he’s starting to go hard thinking about what he’s about to do. Instead of embarrassment, pleasure is rushing through him.

Glancing at the closed door once more, he looks down to where his dick is hanging, pointed at the towel. With a final deep breath, he lets go.

The relief is instant. His bladder still aches but now it’s in a good way, and he’s silent for when his pee rushes out his body, spurting out underneath him. He crouches like that for about 5 minutes and towards the end he’s moaning slightly at how good it feels, realising like this. As the stream of urine slow down to a trickle, he wraps his hand round his cock, pumping slowly. He gets hard so quickly the lack of blood to his brain makes him dizzy, and soon he’s pumping quickly at his cock, not needing lube for the amount of gold piss dripping over his hand. Too soon, he’s fully hard and now a different part of his body is aching for release. Looking down, he sees his cock, swollen up against his body, easily reaching past his belly button. Underneath him lays a puddle of piss, slowly seeping into the towel, tissues and sheets underneath. Seeing the mess is all too much Kurt leans forward again before spilling onto the blanket, coming with a loud moan. Streaks of white fall onto the yellow liquid and Kurt is finally, finally done, the muscles in his stomach and legs twitching in relief. He’s relaxed, finally after 8 hours of holding everything in, and soon he’s collapsed on the bed, feeling his mess mix in with the light trail of hair leading down from his belly button, dick long but soft, damp with the piss and cum under it.


End file.
